Daniel saw signs that they were approaching Konti long before he saw the city itself. The seasonal trader road they had been following joined with a proper stone-cobbled road, this one passing through acres of cultivated land dotted with farmhouses, smoke puffing steadily from their chimneys. They began to see other travellers as well. Mostly locals, making their way to and from the city. Taur had warned them that they would see others today, and both Daniel and Arnica had dressed in more subtle, ordinary clothing instead of their respective ducal and mage uniforms. Were duke Telann here, the group could have entered openly and enjoyed the city’s hospitality. However, as it was, they decided on a more subtle approach.

As they neared the gates of a low wall, it became apparent that Konti already had more than its share of visitors. The space just beyond the wall was covered with tents and cookfires, more organized than Daniel would expect from an informal tent city. Taur squinted at them.

“Imperials!” he exclaimed, pointing at a standard erected among the tents. “Sixth company, looks like.” Arnica pursed her lips.

“I had best lay low then.”

“Why?” Daniel asked.

“Imperial armies are hungry for all the mages they can find. If I unveil my sorcery and one of their mages senses it, I’ll find myself conscripted before the day is out.”

“Can they do that?”

“They can, with the duke gone,” Taur replied. “In the eyes of the empire, Rhud is no more. What remains of our mages will be up for grabs.” Arnica spat on the ground, making her opinion about that prospect quite clear. “We should be fine if we keep our heads down.”

The city gates were heavily manned, but the guards paid little attention to the people passing through. Rather, their eyes were fixed on the imperial soldiers, several of whom stood between the road and their camp. Others sat languidly against the wall itself, one group not twenty yards from the gate. Taur noticed the object of Daniel’s gaze.

“There’s tension there I’d wager,” he whispered. “No city garrison likes having a mobile army breathing down their necks.”

“Why are they here then?” Daniel asked. “This isn’t where they’re usually stationed?”

Taur shook his head. “The sixth has fought in more conflicts than I have fingers to count on, they wouldn’t be wasted in a backwater like this for long. They took a bad mauling against a tribal coalition to the South a few years back, so they’ve been in the capital rebuilding of late. I imagine this is their first assignment since.”

“Could they be on their way to retake the steppe?” Daniel asked. “The imperial court might have finally granted your request!” Arnica hushed Daniel with a glare as they passed through the gate. A few moments later when the guardsmen were out of earshot Taur replied.

“Maybe, but I’d be surprised. Every indication we received pointed to the opposite.”

“Either way, we should find out what their purpose here is,” Daniel said.

“The abomination is right,” said Arnica. “I’ll see to that. You two try to find us somewhere to stay the night. Somewhere humble, but not too humble. I don’t want to find rats chewing on my toes come morning.”

Daniel followed Taur as they passed through the market district, looking for a suitable inn to stay at. Daniel wore Telann’s clothes—and even though they weren’t official ducal garb—they were finely made. The merchants weren’t blind to this, and a crowd of hawkers tried to push every conceivable ware onto Daniel. He waved them off as best he could as Taur used his considerable strength and size to push a hole through the crowded market.

A hand grasped Daniel by the upper arm, accompanied by a chill that cut right through his clothes. Daniel’s eyes swept up to the hand’s owner. A woman. Middle aged and matronly, her cloak was ratty and patched in stark contrast to the bright colours worn by the merchants.

He tugged. She wouldn’t let go.

“You aren’t from here,” she said.

“No, I’m not. Please though, my friend is…” he turned to seek help from Taur, but he’d continued forward, oblivious to Daniel’s holdup.

“Where are you from?” she asked. Daniel’s mind raced.

“Rhud,” he said. There were plenty of other refugees from there, right? Surely that would be a reasonable answer. The woman smiled, revealing a glint in her dark eyes.

“A half-truth,” she replied, “but you’ll find I prefer honesty in greater abundance than that. The cradle of this flesh is Rhud indeed, but your home is farther away than that, isn’t it?”

Daniel’s heart raced.

“How did you—”

“In good time, but it might be better to speak privately, wouldn’t you say?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she started dragging him along. For a woman considerably smaller than him, her strength was deceptive, and she soon pulled him off the street and into a little stone building tucked into an alley behind two larger shops. The door was only covered by a curtain which the woman brushed aside before finally releasing Daniel’s arm and beckoning him inside. He hesitated.

“Who are you?” he asked warily.

“My name is Dira,” she answered, “the priestess of this humble temple.” Despite himself, Daniel raised an eyebrow. Humble indeed, the building was little more than a hovel. “Won’t you introduce yourself in return?” she asked.

“Daniel,” he replied. There could be no harm in giving his name, could there? Better than saying “Telann,” that was for sure.

Dira’s face lit up with a smile.

“That’s the kind of honesty I appreciate! You’re learning, Daniel. Now come inside.” He did, ignoring all the warnings firing off in his head telling him not to.

Shelves crowded the walls, each one cluttered with its own variety of objects. He noticed animal skulls, grass dolls, feather charms, carvings, a range of pottery, candles, and contraptions whose purpose he couldn’t begin to fathom. On a perch near the back was a raven so lifelike and yet so still that Daniel couldn’t quite tell whether or not it was alive. There were only two stiff-backed chairs for furniture, and he saw no altar or other obviously religious accoutrements.

The woman eased herself into one of the chairs, gesturing for Daniel to do the same. He did.

“This is a temple?”

“Yes.”

“To what god?”

“She is called Veil.”

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“Oh yes, of course,” Daniel said, feigning familiarity. The woman cocked her head, a wry smile on her lips.

“There’s no need for deceit here, Daniel. The goddess knows who you are, and is prepared to offer you her help.” Hope sparked in Daniel’s chest. Here, maybe, was a clear path for him to follow. Somebody who knew about him and had an actionable way forward. Taur and Arnica seemed willing to have him along, but they were loyal to the man whose body he occupied, not to Daniel himself. He appreciated their efforts, but a goddess seemed like a very good ally.

“She really knows about me? About where I came from?”

“Of course,” Dira replied. “Your arrival to this world sent out…” she paused, searching for the right word, “…ripples. Even now, the effect remains, though less dramatic. You are a bane to sorcery Daniel, and there are rituals woven across this land more ancient than the very mountains. You disturb them. It is a unique signature.”

“I don’t mean to disturb anything!” Daniel protested. “Your goddess knows that, right?”

“How banal,” the priestess rolled her eyes. “You have little choice in the matter. Clinging to indifference serves only to castrate yourself.”

“Fine then, I should be proactive? Toward what? This isn’t my world. Is there a way I can go home? I won’t be indifferent toward that!”

“If the goddess Veil could return you to your world, she would. Alas, such bridges are as unnatural as your presence here. I am sorry, child.” The priestess looked at Daniel with real sympathy. In that moment her expression was downright motherly.

“How could Arnica create such a bridge to pull me here if even a goddess couldn’t make one to put me back?” he asked, leaning forward. For the first time, he was speaking with somebody who actually seemed to have answers for him. He didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

The woman clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“That meddlesome girl didn’t create the bridge, she merely reached out across it. The real work was done by the creature who injured the duke. It and its kind defy nature nearly as blatantly as you do.”

“The creature? Like the ones from the ice fields?” Daniel asked, remembering Taur’s explanation of Rhud’s fall. It did not escape him that this priestess had just admitted they were capable of doing something her own goddess could not. “Could they send me back?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “though as a rule, it is easier to cause an error than to fix it. The bridge found you by chance, and you were pulled through by the efforts of a desperate necromancer. Finding your home and returning you to it would be another matter entirely.”

Daniel’s heart sank. He’d just caught a glimpse of his first solid lead on a way home, and it had been dashed as quickly as it arrived.

“You said you wanted to help me. How? If Veil can’t put me back, what can she offer?”

“Such little reverence,” Dira chided playfully. “She is uniquely suited to help you, as no other from the pantheon can. You would resist their interventions as thoroughly as you would the rest of our world’s sorcery. Lucky for you, my goddess’ domain is more universal than most. It has hold over you, despite your oddities.”

“And what domain is that?” Daniel asked.

“Death.”

The word was like a puzzle piece fitting into place, suddenly causing the rest of the image to come together. The little temple’s decorations took on new meanings, becoming threatening and ominous to Daniel’s eyes. Dira’s expression hadn’t changed. She held his gaze with cool regard.

“What would the goddess of death offer me?” he said through a suddenly dry throat.

“An accord of patronage. You would become Veil’s mortal hand, free to do the work she is bound from undertaking directly.”

“What work is that?”

“Even the priestesses of great temples such as this are not privy to all the goddess Veil’s plans.”

That made sense. This accord offered him a direct path forward. He could give himself to Veil and accept all the help she offered. A part of him—the part that had governed his choices for so much of his life—wanted so badly to say yes. The worry that ate away at his insides like a worm would be gone. Would all his problems be solved? Of course not. But with a goddess on his side, he would surely be much closer to solving them than left on his own with a well-meaning huntsman and the very necromancer that had gotten him into this whole mess. Ambiguity would melt away, and he could focus on just the assignment given to him, and his own will.

Daniel prepared himself to accept, to take this generous offer and watch so many of his problems disappear. And yet, a spark deep inside him burned in protest. As much as he tried to quench it, to walk this clearly defined path, his efforts only caused that spark to grow louder. How could he so easily sign his will away to a goddess he didn’t even know? How dare he exchange agency for safety so enthusiastically! He’d done so once, for a cause he believed in and for a future he desired. He’d devoted his youth to studying in order to become a physician, one who saves lives. He would make that choice again. Here though, he was being asked to devote himself to the goddess of death in order to labour for a cause that wasn’t even his own.

Daniel grimaced, hating himself for what he was about to do.

“I mean no insult to the goddess Veil, or to you, but I don’t think I can accept this offer. I appreciate your willingness to help. Please know that I really do. I’m just not willing to—”

“There’s no need to explain yourself,” Dira interrupted. “The offer was made in good faith, you can say no without fear. You’ll be on your own as you continue, but there is no ill will between you and the servants of death.”

“Thank you,” Daniel breathed a sigh of relief.

“I would, however, like to offer you a gift to prove the goddess’ intentions. It is given freely, without price or expectation.”

“And what is that?” Daniel asked, wary. This was a priestess of death after all. Who knew what kind of things she considered “gifts?”

Dira stood up from her chair, waving Daniel back down as he began to follow suit. She placed a hand on Daniel’s head, fingers resting lightly on top of his messy hair while her thumb pressed into his forehead. An immense pressure built behind Daniel’s eyes, like his skull was a bottle of soda which had been shaken too many times. He grasped the sides of the chair to steady himself. His fingertips dug painfully into the wood.

“Your current body belonged to Telann of Rhud. He is dead, well and truly.” Daniel’s eyes widened and he forced himself to meet Dira’s eyes.

“Could you bring him back?”

“No. His soul has moved on, he did not linger close, as some do. Yet, as he travelled Veil’s paths his memories were written on the flagstones where he walked, as are those of all who die.” Dira smiled. “Veil makes a gift of them to you. I hope you find them useful.”

Something in Daniel’s head snapped and his vision went white from pain as the pressure released. At the same time his chair disappeared beneath him and he fell to a heap on the dirty temple’s floor.

When he finally gathered his wits about him, Dira was back in her chair, arms crossed and gazing down at him amused. He stood, rubbing his head.

“A warning would have been nice,” he grumbled.

“I didn’t want to incite undue panic. As it is, you destroyed my chair.”

Indeed, where he’d been sitting a moment before there was now only dust.

“Sorry, that happens sometimes,” Daniel apologized.

“Think nothing of it. I rarely have guests anyway.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Do you feel any different?”

“Not really. I can’t remember any of Telann’s memories. Maybe it didn’t work?”

“It did. They will come to you with time, in bits and pieces. Your mind wouldn’t be able to accept all of them at once without fracturing. It is better this way.” Daniel couldn’t help but agree. As much as Telann’s memories would be useful, if he remembered a whole second life, as real and detailed as his own, would he really be himself anymore? “You should go now,” Dira said, gesturing to the doorway. “Your friends will be looking for you.”

“Right!” he exclaimed. Taur would probably be worried sick. Arnica might be relieved to be rid of him though. He didn’t want to give her that satisfaction. He turned to leave and noticed that the curtain covering the threshold was actually a shroud. How thematic.

“We will speak again another time, foreign child. Until then, take care. You’ve already turned down death once, it would be a shame if the decision were taken from you before you had a chance to reconsider.”

That earned a wry smile from Daniel’s lips.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said before brushing the shroud aside and wending his way through the alley, back into the market district. He searched for Taur, looking above the crowd for a head and shoulders taller than the rest. Remembering the general direction they’d been heading before Dira had dragged him aside, Daniel set off through the streets. He eventually came upon a group of buildings that looked like they could be inns. He’d just decided which one to check for Taur first when he heard a horse’s panicked whinny and the sound of rushing wheels, far too close for comfort. Daniel leapt forward, rolling across the ground to escape the oncoming cart. As he scrambled to his feet, covered in dust, the cart’s driver shouted at his horses, sawing at the reigns in an effort to bring the frothing animals to a stop. The vehicle held soldiers wearing the armour and colours of the imperial sixth army camped just outside the city. However, one of them didn’t wear armour, but instead had a uniform adorned with what must have been a small fortune in precious metals. An officer Daniel guessed, and quite high ranking from the number of medals and chevrons scattered across his chest.

At first the man seemed angry as he looked for whoever had been clumsy enough to interrupt his journey. When he saw Daniel though, his aloof expression morphed into a sharp smile that somehow never reached his cold eyes, positively dripping with conceit.

“Telann, old friend!” he exclaimed. “What an unexpected reunion!”